A Density of Synchronicity

I promised you, dear blog readers, that I would post my renga post. I like to keep my word.

Thanks to Axle Contemporary for this wonderful project.  I think my post is still up for one more week, if you want to catch the poetic linked excitement of it. And there are still weeks and weeks of renga, until summer.

I know you have been wondering, what sun-kissed synchronicities have befallen me. So many I almost have to skip a clutch of them, as they do come in groups.  I will begin. 

My son-in-law is applying to grad school, a PHD program in psychology at Duquesne University.  The program has a depth psychology and a specific professor with a Jungian bent. It is in my home town of Pittsburgh.  We all feel my mother is getting back at me for moving west and raising the grand kids in the wilds.

My own youngest, the delicious nine month old Kaleia, was on a holiday journey to her dad's family in sub-zero Indiana. Her other grandpa, Charlie, who has just come back from Peace Corp in Rwanda, had a hankering for a VW camper van, you know the type. He found one which had lived in Santa Fe (!) and was now in Pittsburgh (!!).   Charlie told the VW seller that his son was applying to grad school, and guess what? One of the seller's best friends is head of the Psychology department and the aforementioned professor (!!!).

Kaleia, Hope, Charlie, and Leland drove from Indianapolis to Pittsburgh and got to buy the van and meet the professor, who respects synchronicity.  I am taking a deep breath, and saying "Roots and wings, we give them roots and wings" at the distinct possibility that our enviable all-in-one place family becomes like most of American, only FaceTime and two air flights away.

I stood in a parking lot telling a young man this story, as he was a Duquesne University graduate.

"I was born on Jung's birthday. July 26th," the guy said. (!!!!) Of course he'd love to meet them if they come to Pittsburgh where he still lives. Thanks Luke.  I am keeping a file of Pittsburgh connections.

Telling our pals Pat & Melinda this story, Pat kept saying "Tracks, tracks."  What she explained she meant was a teaching of Carlos Castaneda who they had studies with.   The tracks of your destiny, when life lines up like this.  You gotta respect it. You gotta wonder why I am so resistant and attached.  Dense, is all I can say.